Ocean's Floor
by Ice Cream Social
Summary: What makes such a young person so uncaring? Who could do that to a child...? Russel will do everything in his power to keep the young sailor safe. Eventual SLASH. Russell x Truffles. Humanized.
1. Precious Cargo

Hey, what's up? I'm submitting another story that will hopefully be a multi-chaptered one. Which is ridiculous, since I have two others that have yet to be completed or updated. Whatever. I'm trying something new out. I normally just write fluff, but this will be an angsty story, through and through.

Warnings: homosexual content, shota, mentions of abuse, self-abuse, angst, mentions of rape. I think that's it? Maybe?  
>I also don't own Happy Tree Friends. I think that only needs to be stated once.<p>

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><p>The cold night air whipped around his face in cloudy breaths as he ran. He looked behind him, trying to gather his shorts from around his knees, feeling sticky with what, he didn't want to know. He clutched a bag to his chest while running, feeling hot tears sting his eyes and he could hear his heart in his ears.<p>

Voices thundered out behind him; adrenaline filled his veins and he dashed towards some dimly lit docks. Something crashed behind him and he nearly screamed out if surprise; instead he spotted a pile of wooden crates. He dashed behind them and flung himself in between the crates and a wall. He stiffened, pausing to let himself catch his breath and he was for once thankful for his age and small size.

He heard footsteps and he forgot to breathe; men yelled at one another, there were some thumps and more footsteps, and then the noises receded and vanished. He sighed, relaxing as much as the wall and the crates would allow. He stood and noticed an open crate with a label of a town on it; he grinned weakly and clambered inside of it, grabbing the lid as he did. He jammed the lid overtop of himself over the crate.

Before long he fell asleep, feeling safer than he ever had in a long time.

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><p>Russell sighed, gripping the steering wheel in his hand tighter. The smell of sea salt was all around him, and the sun glittered off the ocean waves. The sky was bright blue with fluffy clouds. Russell couldn't imagine a better day to be sailing.<p>

Russell and his crew had gone on a week-long voyage to a small tropical island to pick up a shipment of fruit. It wasn't necessary, but Russell did it occasionally just for the sake of sailing. Mime had come along because he was fond of the sea and was excellent at cleaning; the Mole was a doctor and wanted to keep Mime company; Handy wanted to help keep the ship in working order, and Lumpy was just a pair of spare hands. Lumpy was more likely to kill anyone than help, but Russell needed all the help he could get. Handy also helped navigate, since Mime didn't let the Mole do it.

It took a full week to sail to the island. Once they got to the island, they stayed a few days to restock the ship's inventory, load the crates, and rest a bit. Then it took another week to sail back. All in all, it had been pleasant, and so far only Handy had died once. Lumpy had accidentally knocked him overboard and the amputee drowned. Beyond that, everything had gone smoothly and they were on their third day sailing back. Handy wasn't impressed with Lumpy once he respawned on the ship, needless to say.

Mime was currently on board, sweeping the ship deck. Lumpy kept the teenager busy; Lumpy was careless and messy, so for the majority of the trip Mime had just cleaned up after him. The older man was currently stretched out leisurely in a fold-out chair, with a cocktail in hand; Mime would normally be pleased that Lumpy was occupied and _not_ making a mess, but Russell had told Lumpy to help Mime. Mime could tell from the get-go that wasn't going to happen. Mime told himself to just be thankful that the idiot wasn't wandering around destroying things and shipmates.

On the other hand, Lumpy was watching Mime clean through his sunglasses with slight interest. Mime was pretty; it was a hot day so the lithe boy had worn shorts that left little to the imagination and a tank top. None of the girls had come on the voyage. Usually Lumpy didn't bother with Mime since he and the Mole had shacked up months ago, but boredom left him little to do. The Mole was helping Handy with his bandages elsewhere, anyways. Lumpy yawned and decided he was hungry, and looked to the crates they had picked up.

Lumpy stood and walked to the crates, grabbing a crowbar as he went. He managed to pry a crate lid off with some difficulty, making a mess of splinters and wood chunks in the process of.

What Lumpy found inside wasn't what he expected.

Inside was a sleeping teenage boy, curled up at the bottom of the crate. He had a thin blanket pulled over his form, but from what Lumpy could see he was marred with bruises and dried bodily fluids. Lumpy stared at the young male for a moment longer before shrugging and opening another crate and leaving with an armful of food.

Mime had seen the whole spectacle Lumpy created in annoyance. Mime had already swept that area, and Lumpy had _also_ taken the cargo without asking. Mime shook his head and approached the mess, preparing to clean what the other man had left. He had just walked by the first open crate when what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Mime stared, gaping at the sleeping boy at the bottom of the large wooden box. Mime covered him mouth in shock, looking around the deck for someone who could help him; Mime found nobody, so he went below deck to find Handy and the Mole.

Below deck, the Mole was attempting to wrap the length of Handy's damaged arms in bandage. Normally Mime would have done it to save them time and frustration, but Russell had him cleaning the ship. The Mole had been at it for at least twenty minutes, ten minutes to find the bandages, the other ten minutes to just wrap the amputee's arms. If it had been anyone else, Handy would have been irritated. Handy couldn't get mad at the Mole for doing his best.

Mime came stumbling in, pink in the cheeks and looking thoroughly disturbed. The Mole had one of Handy's "arms" wrapped but, but he recognized Mime's steps and turned to the artists' direction. Mime wasn't a person who got upset easily, so hearing Mime tear into the room wasn't a normal occurrence for the Mole. "Mime? What's up?"

Mime ran up the Mole, tugging on his sleeves. Handy frowned; the Mole had to wrap up one of his arms still. "Mime. We're kinda busy. What's wrong?"

Mime frowned back at Handy, but decided to humor him. Mime pointed up deck and re-enacted his experience sweeping and finding the sleeping boy. Then he crouched and made up as if he were in an enclosed box, and then pretended to sleep. Mime jumped up and down afterwards, looking frantic. Handy just stared. "...Uh..."

Mime fumed, and just grabbed the Mole by the crook of his arm and motioned for Handy to follow. The Mole apologized to Handy as he was dragged up the stairs by his frantic boyfriend; the red-headed man rolled his eyes and followed suit.

Handy's mild irritation for Mime vanished when he laid eyes on the unconscious boy inside the crate. Mime stood on his tiptoes and explained the situation to the blind man, who immediately switched into his doctor mindset. "Handy, let Russel know. Mime...help me get him to the medical ward." Handy did so; he took off immediately to let the captain of their ship know they seemed to have a very broken-looking stowaway. Mime helped the Mole pick up the boy and lead him to the ships' small medical ward.

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><p><em>End chapter.<em>

Not a big intro chapter, but hopefully the next ones will be longer. I'll get into the unconscious boy's perspective more. Guess who he is! Your hint is the ocean theme.


	2. Scalpel

I think it's mentionable that I know next to nothing about sailing and boats. So please excuse me for my lack of knowledge, I'll try my best. If I make some kind of error with the anatomy of the ship, feel free to point it out and I'll fix it.

Thank you **Jennifer the Dark**, **Lexis-RandomThoughts Mo **and **Kiwieh **for reviewing! And I'm sorry if I caused any concern for the character. He has a happy ending, although I'm going to put him through a lot first. I bumped the rating for the hardship he's going to have to endure. Sorry!

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><p>He woke with a start. He was stiff and cold, and where he was wet with various fluids, he felt disgusting. There was a bright light over him, and the ceiling was also a shade of light blue; the light and the ceiling were blinding. He reached up, groaning a little, touching his face. He looked around the room groggily, and noticed that he was not alone. He flinched and immediately woke up; he whimpered and tried to back away, and he slid off of the bed he was placed on. He fell, hitting his knees and arms on the floor and the edge of the bed. He also knocked a trolley over; sending what looked like a scalpel and bandages flying. The people in the room looked alarmed; he ignored this and drew himself up into the corner farthest from them, and hid his face.<p>

"Um...whoa. Are...are you alright?" He didn't look up to see who was speaking to him, but it was a man's voice. He shuddered, remembering the men who had been hunting him down. "It's okay. We're not going to hurt you."

Light footsteps approached him. They stopped close, and he turned his body away as much as he could, curling into himself as much as possible. He felt warmer all around all at once, and he looked up at see a boy who looked a little older than him smiling at him. He had purple hair, and could be easily mistaken for a girl; he had wrapped a blanket around him. "Mime. Give him some tea." He looked over to see a man with a purple sweater covering his mouth with glasses holding a mug out in their direction. Mime was what the boy was apparently known as; he turned away and took the mug away from the older man and brought it back to him.

The boy was still smiling, holding the cup out to him. He blushed a little, feeling ashamed of himself, and took the cup with hesitation.

"See? We're not going to hurt you. Everything's alright." A muscular-looking man was standing next to the one in the purple sweater, looking at him in sympathy. "Can you...tell us your name?"

He debated this, looking into the cup of hot tea Mime had brought him. '_Can I trust these people?_' He frowned, thinking back on the last people he had trusted. _'...No.'_ He looked back up at Mime's still-smiling face, and felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm...Truffles."

"That's a nice name." The man with the dark glasses commented, and Truffles realized he was blind. "I'm Mole. Over there next to you, is Mime. He doesn't talk."

"He doesn't see." The red-headed man added with a smirk, gesturing to him with an amputated arm. The Mole looked over in Handy's direction with a bit of a glare and the man continued to grin. "See, I couldn't hurt you, even if I wanted to. Not that I do." The muscular man shrugged. "I'm Handy. The captain of the ship is Russel...and the huge idiot you're bound to meet is Lumpy."

"Mime said he found you in a crate." Truffles frowned. _'I thought Mime didn't talk?'_ "I'm sorry if this seems like too much at once, but can you tell us why you were in the crate?" The Mole asked in an even tone; he looked bored, almost. Truffles didn't like that.

Truffles looked away, and he wrapped the blanket around himself some more and took a drink of tea. Mime had been crouched next to him; he stood and bounded over to the Mole, standing on tip-toe and he leant to his ear with a cupped hand. The Mole tightened his lips and nodded. "Well...I'm sure you can tell us later." He smiled weakly. "Let me know if you have any concerns. I'm the doctor on the ship." Mime leaned up into him again, and after a moment the Mole nodded. "Mime says he'll look after you. Just talk to him if you need something."

They stood in silence for a moment, before the ginger-haired man cleared his throat. "Uh, well...Russel said that you could take a break from cleaning." Handy had directed this at Mime, and the teenager looked relieved. "And Mole...could we finish up? I'm not comfortable..." Handy waved his arms for emphasis, one which was bare.

The Mole blinked, before something seemed to wash over him. "Oh. Of course." He grinned sheepishly, and he walked forwards towards the bed in the room. "Um...Mime?" Mime was at his side instantly. "Do you think you could find Truffles a room?" Mime nodded, and he looked towards Truffles, who flinched.

Mime motioned for him to follow, with his hand outstretched to him. Truffles stared at the other boy's hand dubiously, and carefully grasped it. Mime pulled Truffles up, the young sailor bringing the mug and with the blanket still around him. Mime grinned brightly at Truffles, and they left the room. Truffles had awkwardly slid his hand out of Mime's.

The ship didn't seem _huge_, but it was still fairly large. Truffles felt pretty comfortable with Mime so far; he wasn't very threatening, and he was friendly. Mime was opening doors and peeking inside; he did this for a few minutes before Truffles mustered enough confidence to speak. "So, uh...how many of you are there on the ship?"

Mime looked back at the young boy, with a smile on his face. Truffles wondered if Mime had any other expressions, or if he smiled at everything by default. Mime held up a hand, indicating _five_ with his fingers. He held up another hand with a finger, and pointed to Truffles. Truffles blushed. "Six, including me?" Mime nodded, and opened another door. He walked inside, and Truffles assumed that he should follow.

It wasn't a very big room; Truffles was used to huge rooms for sleeping. This room was _far_ cozier than any other he had slept in, however. He walked in after Mime, looking around curiously. It had a bed big enough for one person with comfy-looking blankets and pillows; a night stand next to it with a lamp, and a small shelf on the other side of the room with some books. "This is...mine?" Truffles tried quietly, and Mime nodded. "Thanks." Mime's smile brightened. The other boy held out his hands in a "what?" sort of manner. Truffles assumed he was asking if he needed anything. "Um...well...I would like more tea. And maybe a...shower. And some new clothes."

Mime nodded, and he gently took the mug from Truffles and disappeared outside the door. Truffles took the opportunity to sit on the bed, and he found it insanely comfortable. The young sailor sighed and lay down, and curled up on the bed. He felt sore everywhere from sleeping in a crate for three days.

"So...yer the stowaway, eh?" A slightly rough voice startled Truffles, and he sat up immediately, looking at the doorway. A man with long wavy blue hair in a ponytail stood there. He had an eye patch, and he looked very much like a _pirate_. Truffles shuddered, thinking of other pirates he had met, and he backed himself up into a wall. The man held up his hands; Truffles noticed he had a hook for a hand. "Whoa, there. I'm not gonna hurt ye." The man walked forward, and Truffles heard a loud _thump, thump, thump_ as he did. Truffles saw that he had two wooden peg legs. Truffles shut his eyes as he drew closer, and pressed his legs together. "I promise...not gonna hurt ye. Ye look...hurt."

Mime chose that moment to come back, holding a mug of steaming hot tea and some clothes. Mime frowned, and Truffles decided then he liked Mime a lot. Mime walked in, shaking his head _no_ at the pirate, who slumped and nodded. "I-I'm sorry. I'll be goin'." The tall man stalked out, looking thoroughly disappointed. Truffles would have felt bad, if it wasn't _him_. Mime smiled weakly at Truffles, kind of the same way the blind man had done. Mime set the mug and the clothes down on the nightstand, and motioned for Truffles to follow him once more. Truffles stood, and grabbed the clothes on his way out.

Mime brought Truffles to a bathroom, with a shower inside. Mime grinned, and left Truffles, shutting the door behind him. Truffles looked around, and then at the clothes Mime had brought him. It was a striped navy blue and white t-shirt, and then a pair of above-knee navy-styled shorts. Mime had also brought him knee socks. Truffles shrugged, looking down at his own clothing; his sailor uniform was torn in some places, smudged with dirt and covered with dried, cracked fluid. Truffles wrinkled his nose at himself, shrugged, and peeled his dirtied clothing off and stepped into the shower.

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><p>"He seemed <em>afraid<em> o' me." Russell commented moodily, back to steering the ship. Handy was navigating for him.

"He seems...well, kind of broken, if you know what I mean. Kids run away from their parents sometimes, but...the Mole says he was covered with..." Russel looked over at Handy, cocking an eyebrow expectantly. Handy sighed and looked away, feeling disgust, and guilt. "..._Sperm_."

Handy let that sink in with Russel, turning back to the maps he was looking over. Russel stared back at the open sea; they would be back in Happy Tree town in a few days. Truffles looked about fourteen or fifteen; and the way he had reacted around Russel, he assumed he didn't have any good experiences with Pirates. Truffles was wearing a sailor uniform; there was a small navy base at the island they had left, but Russell had only seen grown men working for the base. Russell frowned. "We can't take 'im back."

Handy looked up at the pirate, raising his eyebrows. "What? You...you want to take him with us, back to town?"

Russell nodded. "He ran away on purpose. There's somethin' wrong with that island."

Handy frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea, Russ'...we can't just claim him. He's still a child. _Maybe_ if he was an adult. But we can't just take him from his parents."

Russell glared back at Handy from under his eye patch. "Some 'parents' _that_ lad has. Sperm..." Russell had practically spat the last word out. Russell looked back to the sea, anger flaring up inside of him. "I ain't takin' 'im back, Handy."I know it ain't...a good idea. But I can't take the lad back to that."

Handy chewed on his lip. "But _Russell_...the town. He won't be able to leave. Is that much _better_ for him? Won't that break him more? Besides, we don't even know what he's like."

Russell bowed his head. "If he be anything like me, he has the sea. Sailors, pirates...they be okay as long as they have the sea." He looked at Handy, frowning. "What about Mime? That lad is happy. Mime looks the same age as that boy." The pirate was gripping the steering wheel tightly, practically staring daggers at Handy.

Handy sighed. Handy knew Russell well enough that Russell was stubborn, and had a bit of a soft heart. Handy also knew once Russell had _that_ look about him, he couldn't be convinced otherwise. "...I'm not going to agree, but I can't really stop you. But don't say I didn't warn you. Whoever..." Handy furrowed his brows, looking for the right word usage. "..._takes care_ of him will probably come looking for him, and we're likely suspects. I don't feel like fighting the Navy." With that, Handy left, scowling slightly as he did. Russell huffed angrily, and knew that Handy was right.

Russell couldn't bear to see the young boy cringe like that again.

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><p><em>End chapter.<em>

I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but it's an update at least. Russell's "pirate-speak" is a pain in the ass to write. I'm not really familiar with pirate slang, and I hope what I'm writing for his dialogue isn't too bad. If you have any tips, let me know!

Also, I feel cheated. Has anyone else noticed that in the character box for Happy Tree Friends fan fiction, that Russell's name is misspelled? When I went to upload this story I noticed that, and I went back and changed his name to "Russel" in the first chapter. I know that's incorrect now, so I'll have to fix it. , you troll, you.


	3. Few Days Grace

Third chapter! I'm on a roll!

I'm also lazy.

Some reasons I write the story is, that Truffles is pretty much non-existent in fics. I'm really fascinated with the character; he's so cute! Truffles looks like he would be the "I don't give a shit" type of guy, so...I'm trying to incorporate that. He's really shaken up about what he's just left behind, and he also has a lot of trust issues. So once he gets used to the traditional Happy Tree Friends characters, that trait will show up more. If I do this right.

Enjoy!

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><p>Truffles stepped out of the shower, shaking his hair out with a towel; another was draped loosely around his waist. If it wasn't for Mime, Truffles wouldn't be nearly as comfortable being next to naked in a foreign in environment. The young sailor frowned and thought with a bitter grin, <em>'Then again, almost <em>_**everywhere**__ is 'foreign' to me.'_Truffles decided to not think about it anymore, and then went to dress himself.

Truffles stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was already starting to dry off; his baby blue hair was chin length, and it was starting to curl in tufts around his neck. The clothes were slightly big on him, since Mime was taller than him; the artist was skinny, however. Truffles pinched at the sides of the clothes and wondered if Mime had any eating problems for being this skinny. The clothes fit fine all around. Truffles slipped his shoes on and his hat, although it was slightly dirty and walked out carrying all of his soiled sailor uniform.

It was quiet. He walked around cautiously, and slipped into his own room. Truffles made sure the room was empty first before shutting the door quietly and locking it. The young boy sighed, dropped his clothes, and flopped onto his bed for the second time.

It was evening. It was too early for sleeping, and Truffles discovered that he was _really_ hungry. Before he had stowed away in the crate, he had packed some essentials; some food, a blanket, some money he had stolen, various items for first-aid and survival, and most importantly, the only picture he had of his mother with himself. Truffles frowned and sat up, wondering where his bag was.

He left the room just as quietly as he entered, looking for his favorite person on the ship. He crept down the halls of the ship, peering into different empty rooms, each empty of Mime. At the end of a hall was a room with a door slightly cracked open; he was about to peek inside when he heard a gasp. Truffles froze, thinking he had been caught, though he hadn't done anything wrong.

Truffles inched closer to the door. He heard a bed creak and bed sheets rustle; someone was breathing heavier than average and moaned. Truffles blushed and understood the tell-tale sounds coming from the room. Still, he didn't identify the owner of the voice, and he moved close enough so he could take a quick look inside.

Inside was Mime; he was lying on the bed. He had a person on top of him, who Truffles had recognized as the doctor from earlier. Their heads were at the wall and their feet to him, so Mime wouldn't be able to see him unless he sat up. They were clothed, though the doctor had Mime pinned, and Mime was writhing. The older man had his mouth attached to the young artist's neck, from what he could see. Mime made another light, breathy whimper with his _apparently _very real voice, and Truffles darted down the hall as quietly as he could, beet red.

Truffles had turned a corner for another hall when he ran face first into something very hard. Truffles fell backwards and landed on the ground awkwardly, and looked up at what he had run into.

Handy stood there, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to knock you over. I'd help you up, but..." A scowl passed the ginger-haired man's face. "Are you okay? You look..."

Truffles helped himself up, backing away slightly from the muscular man. "U-uh, well, I-I didn't _mean_ to, I was looking for Mime, and..." Truffles looked at his feet, feeling his face burn. Handy stared at him. "I was hungry, a-and he was in his room, with...the doctor..."

Handy stared at him for a moment before he said simply, "_Oh_." And cracked an awkward grin. Truffles looked up at him, hoping for some understanding or clarification. "That's Mime and the Mole's room down there. You didn't know, but...they're..." Handy raised an eyebrow, trying to explain it. "Together. I suppose you saw something you might have shouldn't have?" Handy was grinning at him fully that made Truffles felt humiliated in some way, but he nodded.

"T-they're, not, too, uh..." Handy was staring down the hall. "..._Busy_. Not yet, anyways..." They young sailor mumbled this, playing with the end of his shirt and looking at his feet again.

"Good." Handy grunted, and he moved past Truffles. "Mime needs to start dinner." Truffles watched with wide eyes as the redhead walked up to their door and kicked it. "Russell says you have to cook dinner, Mime, if you're not too _busy._ Also, shut the damn door, Truffles is going to need therapy!" The door had swung open, but Handy seemed undaunted, and he sauntered away. The older man had mumbled a quiet "okay" after Handy had left. Handy walked up to Truffles with a bit of a mischievous grin. "See? That's how you handle it. Don't feel bad. We probably should have explained it to you, but...I didn't think you'd find out so fast."

Truffles nodded. "Um, yeah. It explains a lot, actually..." He ventured a small grin. "Thanks."

Handy smiled back. "You're welcome." With that Handy walked down the hall, and out of sight. Truffles stood there for a minute, and then decided he didn't want to be there for when the couple left their room, and ran down the hall.

Truffles found the stairs and climbed them, still flustered from what he had seen. It made sense; Mime was attentive to the Mole, and the Mole had said earlier, _"Mime said he found you in a crate."_ Mime's expressions resembled the older man's a little when Mime had looked at him in sympathy.

Truffles forgot to breathe a little when he went outside, onto the deck. The sun was setting with twilight blues coming out overheard, but shades of orange, reds, pinks, yellows and purples surrounded the sun. Truffles looked out onto the sea that reflected the dusk sky; he felt drawn to it, and remembered what he wanted all the time when he was in the Naval base. The young sailor walked to the edge of the ship, and leant on the rail, leaning over a little to get a better look of the ocean. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes to savor the smell. Truffles smiled.

"'Aye, 'tis a beautiful sight."

That voice made his skin crawl; it was so deep and guttural, and so _pirate_. Truffles whipped around, suddenly dragged out of the enchantment the sea had placed over him. The Pirate looked at his face, wilted, and sighed. "I don't know why ye seem so..._scared_ o' me." The tall man walked forward, and did the same as Truffles; leant on the rail and looked out on the sea. Truffles did note that the older man left a large space between them, so he relaxed, although with difficulty. Truffles said nothing to the man, and forced himself to stare back out at the ocean.

"Have ye ever sailed before, lad?" The pirate was looking at him with a careful smile. Truffles looked back at him, with an uneasy glare. The pirate shook his head and looked back at the sea. "Ah, well. I suppose I'll let ye be." The man stood straight from leaning over the edge, and began to walk away. He stopped and turned to look at the young sailor. "Ehm...I just want ye to know that...I just want to be yer friend. Ye can trust us." The man looked embarrassed while saying this, and he left the deck, his peg legs thumping all the way. Truffles watched him leave, feeling all sorts of doubts, guilt, and questions bubble up within him.

A while later, a _huge_ man walked onto the deck, eating a sandwich. The man's gaze turned to Truffles, and Truffles stiffened. '_Handy said something about another man being on the ship...what was his name?' _The man grinned from ear to ear, and approached him. Truffles shuffled away from him a little.

"Ohhh, hello there! You're the boy from earlier, in the crate!" Truffles nodded a little; the man's smile was so big it was unnerving. "I'm Lumpy! How are you?" He stuck his hand out for Truffles to shake it. Truffles stared at it for a moment, before tentatively taking it. Lumpy gripped his hand with a tight grip and shook it like no tomorrow. "It's great having you here! Everyone was real worried about you." The man took a bite of his sandwich and munched away; he seemed oblivious to the body language that Truffles was giving him, that said, _get the hell away from me._ Truffles took another couple subtle steps back, rubbing at his aching hand. Lumpy looked around the ship. "It's boring here...it's not interesting even when someone dies."

Truffles frowned. _'...When someone dies? What does he mean?'_ Lumpy patted him on the back, hard enough to make Truffles lurch and he knew it would leave marks. "_Wellll_, it was real nice meetin' you, kid. Try not to get into too much trouble." With that, the insanely tall man left, still chewing on a sandwich.

Truffles knew he still had some questions for Mime.

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><p>Truffles shuffled his feet nervously, sitting in between Mime and Handy. The Mole and Handy sat at either ends of the dinner table, with Lumpy and Russell on the other side of the table. They were eating the meal Mime had prepared, and it was quite good; apparently Mime had taken some time adjusting to eating "real" food. The artist made <em>invisible<em> meals with invisible cooking tools. Truffles felt a little better knowing that Mime didn't have any eating problems; it's just that he was eccentric.

"So." The Mole started, breaking a bit of an awkward silence. Handy was noisily trying to drink soup though a straw. "Do you feel any better about telling us about yourself, Truffles?" The magenta-haired man was eating rather gracefully.

Truffles squirmed; he knew this was going to happen. He wondered how much he could get away with _not_ telling them. "I'm...thirteen." Mime smiled at him encouragingly. Truffles felt his face heat up a little, so he stared at his plate of soup, veggies, and some meat. "I was born on the island that you picked the crates up from...I stowed away because of my father." Everyone's eyes were on him with the exception of the Mole's and Lumpy; the large man seemed uninterested. Truffles took a breath and tried to compose himself. "I...don't really want to say why I left."

The Mole sighed and settled into his seat, frowning a little. Truffles noticed that Handy was frowning too. Handy stopped drinking the substance and straightened out and the young sailor noticed he was staring pointedly at the Pirate. Russell looked away, irritation seeping into his expression. Handy spoke. "I...I hate to sound like a bit of an ass, but..." Russell's look intensified, and he was directing it at the ginger-haired man. "If you don't tell us more about yourself, we're going to have to call the police, the Navy...someone. You're a minor. We can't be responsible for you."

Truffles shuddered, hearing the word _Navy. _Navy, Navy, Navy. "N-no, please, don't. I...I know I should go back to my father. But...I can't. Please, don't make me go back." Truffles shrunk into his seat, hating the way Handy and the Mole were frowning. Mime's hand was on his knee, as if to offer him some comfort. "You probably don't trust me. I'm...sorry. I don't mean to cause any trouble."

"It's an inconvenience having you here, if I'm to be honest. I apologize if that's harsh." The Mole's eyes were closed as he was speaking, looking as though he's rather be sleeping. Mime's hold on his knee grew firmer. "I have to agree with Handy. We could be charged with kidnapping. Russell's boating and fishing licensing would have marks against them." Truffles felt tears threaten to flow down his cheeks, but he did what he could to fight them back. "You need to go back to your family, Truffles."

Russell let out a low growl. "Handy, Mole, watch yerselves. He's only a _lad,_ lookit 'im! Yer makin' 'im cry." Truffles blushed for hi_s _tears being discovered, and he felt weak. "_I'm_ the Capt'n around here. I understand what yer sayin', and to some extent, I agree with ye. But makin' the lad feel bad about somethin' outta his control won't get us anywhere."

Lumpy looked bored as his voice cut in directly after Russell's. "We can just take him back to town with us and pretend we hadn't discovered him until a day or so after landing." He was cutting his meat with a steak knife. "The authorities probably won't speak to us a day or so after that, but we could call him in before that." He looked up at Truffles. "So we have a few days' grace."

Truffles was about to be impressed, everyone looked impressed, when _slice_. Lumpy's grip in the knife slipped and it flew upwards; it landed in Handy's neck and blood sprayed everywhere. The red-headed man thrashed, arms waving frantically, trying to stop himself from bleeding out. Mime had him pinned instantly on the ground and the Mole was up and out of his seat to help; unfortunately as he neared Handy, he tripped and drove the knife deeper into the man's throat.

Handy died.

Truffles stared, with blood dripping down his face and it had stained his clothes and soaked into his food. Mime looked at his blood covered hands and at the Mole, who backed away looking horrified. Lumpy sat there, with the guilty look of a child getting busted for something mundane, twiddling his thumbs. Russell's eye was wide; he had stood up during the commotion. Russell's position was rigid.

Truffles began to scream.

"Mime, get him to calm down, take him to his room." The Mole said with a sigh, falling back against a wall and sliding into a sitting position. Mime stood shakily and offered a hand to Truffles; Truffles looked at his blood stained hands and began to cry. Mime frowned and looked as though he could cry himself, but instead he grabbed the sailor's hand and dragged him out of the room.

Truffles was sniffling, breathing heavily, crying and shaking all at once. Not once in his life had he seen someone _die _like that. Mime took him to his room and sat him down and vanished. Truffles fell onto a heap on the floor, gasping, shaking. There was blood all over his legs and arms.

Mime came back with a mug of tea, and sat across from Truffles on the floor. He grabbed Truffles by the shoulder and took a breath. "...I need you to listen to me." He said quietly. This got Truffles' attention, although his continued to cry and whimper. "Our town...our _lives_ are...different." Mime looked down at his hands. "I guess nobody's explained this to you yet. In our town, everyone who chooses to live there can never leave. It's a...curse, of some sort. We die. We die all the time. I've died...countless times. In painful ways." Truffles shook, his chest heaving for air. "If you come back to town with us, you may die. And you may never be able to leave."

Truffles looked up at Mime. Mime's eyes were hard, and all traces of his bright smiles were gone. Truffles couldn't stop thinking of the blood that came like a spout from Handy's neck, and of the men he was being chased by. He shook his head, and cried harder. Mime climbed nearer to him and wrapped him in a hug. "_Shhhh._ I know. I cried, too. It's scary. I wish I didn't have to die." There was blood on Mime too, but nobody had held him like this in such a long time so he ignored it. "I don't know what you're running from, Truffles, but...you'll get hurt in our town, too. We won't _try_ to hurt you, but...death is something that lives with us."

Mime sat there for a while with Truffles in his arms, and he rocked him gently and stroked his hair. Truffles clung to Mime, wondering if he should continue with his almost impossible plan and possibly die doing it.

Truffles decided dying in hundreds of different ways with gentle people like the ones on the boat was much better than returning to the hell he had finally escaped from. Truffles had calmed down for the most part, except he hiccupped and sniffled occasionally, and he still shook. Mime slowly sat him up, and his trademark smile worked its way back into his face, although nowhere near as brilliant as usual. "So...what do you think?"

Truffles rubbed at his eyes, feeling tired from crying. "I...I want to stay with you guys. I-I'd rather be happy with people like you and die, then be back at..._home_." Mime picked up the mug and set it in Truffles' hands, and he started to drink.

Mime sighed. "I'll talk to the guys and see if I can work this out somehow. But...they're right. Someone _will_ try find you. And...I'd hate to see someone get hurt. You need to tell us what happened so we can help you." Mime looked at Truffles with apologetic and sympathetic eyes, and Truffles began to cry again.

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><p><em>End chapter.<em>

I feel like such a jerk for making Truffles so miserable. The character already _looks_ sort of miserable, so I suppose I'm on the right track. But still.

I hope Mime wasn't too OOC, though I know _Mime talking_ is kind of one big contradiction. He's not going to run around and talk everyone's ears off though, he only talks to people he really likes and trusts in my writing. I didn't plan for him to speak, he just sort of did. I beg your pardon for that.

Thanks for reading thus far!


	4. Capsize

I hope I don't get into too much trouble for the content of this chapter. I must remind everyone.

Warnings: _Shota_ (If you **do not** **know** what shota is, _**I urge you to**_ urban dictionary it or something.), mentions of abuse, self-abuse, and mentions of rape.

I'm getting into Truffles' past a little more in this chapter and it isn't pretty. This is why I only ever write fluff, folks. My horror and angst is heavy. Also, thank you **Jennifer the Dark**, **Lexis-RandomThoughts Mo**, **All Natural Snapple **and **Getoutplease **so much for reviewing! I forgot to thank you awesome people last chapter, apologies.

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><p><em>Truffles was sitting in his huge bedroom. He was a few years younger, and he was lying on the floor, coloring. Crayons and markers were scattered all around him and he was smiling happily as he entertained himself. The door to his room opened and a man stepped in.<em>

_The man was one of the scientists who he saw often with his father. The man was old and he didn't look very friendly; most of the time, Truffles felt frightened of him. Truffles stopped coloring his picture and sat up, eyeing the man warily. "...What do you want?"_

_"Truffles." The man said, suddenly breaking into a grin and opening his arms. "My boy. How are you?" Truffles frowned, and behind him his father walked in. His father also frowned at the man. _

_"Doctor. Why are you here?" His eyes flicked to Truffles, with an expression Truffles couldn't read. _

_"I have finished _it_. The higher-ups will love _it_. You must see _it_." The man was leaning closer to Truffles' father with an excited look on his face, while Truffles' father stepped backwards, seemingly uncomfortable by the close proximity._

_"Yes, yes, I know you've been working hard. But what is it? Why are you here? What does Truffles have to do with it?" Truffles had been starting to lose interest in the adults' interaction, but the mention of his name piqued his interest. _

_The man dropped his arms and took a step back. "Ehm, you see, I've hit a bit of a snag. _It's_ been trained to do as I say, and to not harm anyone in uniform. However, I seem to have...run dry in test subjects."_

_Truffles' father frowned furiously. "No. I cannot agree. I cannot believe what you are insinuating!"_

_"Calm down, lieutenant. _It's_ very near completion, so Truffles will not be harmed. _It's_ quite docile. Since your son is in uniform, he will be fine. It's even better that he is a child. I can test the extent of _its_ domestic qualities this way." The man leaned into Truffles' father, leering. Truffles father was fuming, and the man whispered something._

_This something made Truffles' father lose his fight; he slouched slightly and nodded. He turned to Truffles and made a coaxing motion to him. "Truffles." Truffles frowned at the light, gentle tone his father was using to speak to him; it sounded unnatural to him. "The doctor has someone for you to meet. Come." The scientist had a huge grin that the young boy didn't like, but his father was smiling at him in an unfamiliar fashion that he couldn't resist. Truffles slowly stood and walked to his father and took his hand. _

_They walked in silence for a while, descending farther into the naval base. Truffles hadn't been to this part of the base before; there were large tanks, filled with large sea animals. Truffles shuddered, looking at a giant squid, and clung closer to his father. _

_They came to a room with a tank, and there were a few sailors and a few officers there. They all grinned at Truffles as he entered, and he hid behind his father. The most important looking man approached Truffles' father. "Ah, lieutenant. I'm so glad to see you and your son. He has a very important job to do."_

_Truffles father looked sad, and Truffles didn't understand why. "Must he do this, sir? He's so young."_

_"All the better." The man also whispered something to his father, and he again nodded and his expression sunk. His father crouched to him. "Truffles. Look into the water."_

_They were standing next to a large tank that was deep on one end and shallow next to the edge. In the water, Truffles could see what looked like either a squid or an octopus. He felt scared and looked at his father. "Daddy, why am I here?"_

_Truffles' dad forced a smile. "You're going to help the officers and doctors, son. It's very important and you have to do everything they say. You have to meet the octopus."_

_Truffles shook his head. "No! No, Daddy, I don't want to meet _it_!" Truffles' dad let go of his hands and stood. _

_"Thank you, lieutenant. Your cooperation will be rewarded." One of the sailors opened the door and led Truffles' father out of the room. The men in the room all smiled at Truffles as he stood on the edge, next to the tank. _

_"Take off your shoes and socks, Truffles." The scientist ordered him, looking pleased. Truffles nodded shakily, and complied. "Good. Now step into the water. Don't worry, it won't hurt you."_

_Truffles nodded again, although he was shaking. He stepped into the cold water, and looked back at the men. They all smiled at him and urged him forward. "Go on, son. Everything's okay. Meet the octopus. He's very friendly." A few of the sailors laughed amongst themselves. Truffles gulped and stepped deeper into the water. He heard a beeping noise behind him and saw that the scientist was working on a machine behind him. The water moved, and Truffles froze. The sea creature moved, and it came closer to the shallow part of the water. _

_Truffles whimpered as tentacles moved towards him, and one wrapped around his leg. "See? He's very friendly. He's happy to see you. Touch him, he won't hurt you." Truffles was shaking badly, but he moved jerkily to bend down and pet the limb that was curled around him. It moved, and more tentacles surrounded his legs. Truffles started to panic, as the octopus moved closer to him, but it stayed in the deep end. The tentacles tightened around him and suddenly, he was underwater. He shut his eyes as the tentacles squeezed and touched him. He could hear the men above water yelling and making a commotion, but he was desperate for air. Truffles had swallowed some water and he wasn't strong enough to fight the genetically engineered creature off of him. He tried to scream when its limbs slipped up his shirt and shorts, but instead lost air. It held his arms and legs away from him, and he was helpless. He swallowed water and couldn't pull himself free from the wandering limbs._

_Truffles struggled, but he felt his consciousness slip away from him from the lack of oxygen and terror. _

Truffles sat up in his bed with a gasp. "_...I was only dreaming_." He told himself. He hugged himself, panting, and he curled up against the wall in his room. Cold sweat covered his legs and arms.

Truffles felt dirty. He hadn't dreamt of _that_ in a long time, but every time he did the feeling of drowning and violation came back. He rubbed his arms trying to comfort himself, and he fought the urge to cry. Truffles wondered if he was doing the right thing, running away from the Navy and stowing away with these strange people. "_I don't want to die._" He frowned; an idea came to his head and he slowly slipped out of bed into the cold night air. "_But I can't go back to that place. Ever._" He turned left the room and headed for the bathroom, feeling his face flush at what he was about to do. "_...This is the only way I'll be able to stay with them, isn't it?_" He entered the bathroom and looked himself over. Mime had given him clothes to sleep in; the shorts were shorter than what he was used to, and he wore a tank top. He reached for a brush that was on the counter and rid his hair of any knots. His light blue hair sat nicely around his chin. Nobody had seen since he always wore clothes that covered him, but he had bruises on his shoulders, on his thighs, on his stomach, on his hips. He had red markings on his neck that his hair covered and more red markings in places he didn't want to try and find.

He gulped, and blushed at himself, but he left the room. Truffles began to think. _"Who? Not Mime, or the Mole."_ Truffles frowned. _"Lumpy seems kind of...stupid._" He shuddered at the next person that came to mind, but he steeled himself and found Russell's room. "_...Am I too..._dirty_ for this?_"

Russell was the captain, the _man in charge;_ it made sense to the young sailor. Truffles had found his room without too much difficulty, and he slipped quietly inside. Inside, the pirate was sleeping soundly on his back. Truffles felt his mouth go dry and his hands trembled, but he stepped inside further.

Truffles climbed up on the bed; he stilled when Russell woke a little, and he waited until the man was soundly asleep again. Truffles climbed on top of the pirate, and straddled his hips. Truffles flushed furiously at himself, ashamed at what he was doing, but he took a deep breath and tried to calm his heart rate. The sailor put his hands on either side of the pirate and leaned forward, and started to nip at the man's jawbone. He propped himself up on Russell's chest with a forearm and worked his other hand through Russell's long hair, and up and down the man's broad chest.

The pirate woke up, making a confused noise. Truffles rolled his hips, squeezed, and planted a kiss on the pirates' neck, and then he somehow ended up on the floor. The man had woken up with a bit of a yelp and shoved Truffles up and off of him. "Land _sakes,_ lad! W-what are ye doin'?" Russell questioned, looking thoroughly disturbed and flustered. Truffles looked at the floor. This hadn't happened to him before.

"...I...I thought all men wanted _that_."

Russell said nothing after a few moments, so Truffles ventured a look at the man. Russell was looking at him with eyes filled with pity, and a sort of understanding. "...No, lad. _No_. I..." Russell scratched his neck where Truffles had kissed him with his good hand. Russell sighed. "I think I get ye better, lad. I'll...talk with ye in the morning, alright?" Truffles looked up at him, and nodded. "Please just...leave." Truffles picked himself up off the floor where he had landed and left the dark room just as quietly as he entered. He went back to his room, feeling ashamed, and confused.

Never before had he had any trouble with _that. _

Russell had a hard time sleeping after Truffles left. He woke up hours earlier than usual, and felt that he needed to consult someone about what had happened. The pirate waited a few hours before he made up his mind, and went to the Mole's and Mime's room and knocked.

After a few minutes the door opened, revealing a very sleepy-looking Mime. Mime rubbed at his eyes and cocked his head at the older man. Russell shifted on the spot and cleared his throat. "Ehh...I apologize, lad. But I be needin' to talk to the Mole." Mime nodded and shut the door. Another few minutes passed and the Mole came out of the room, stumbling sleepily into Russell.

"Ah. Russell. Sorry." The Mole yawned. "What is it?"

Russell looked around, even though it was too early for other shipmates to be wandering around. "I'm sorry about wakin' ye up." The Mole shook his head. "Somethin' happened to me last night an' I need to talk to ye about it. It be important."

The Mole frowned, still looking very tired. The magenta-haired man nodded though. "...Okay. You want to talk in private?" The pirate nodded, and led them away.

Russell sat the Mole down on the deck at a table and looked out to the sea. The sun had just started to come up. The Mole yawned, and looked in the direction the pirate was sitting. "Russell...what's the matter?"

Russell looked at the blind man and tried to figure out how to word his dilemma. The color of his face darkened as he recalled the way the young boy's legs were curled around his and the feel of his lips against his rough skin. Russell cleared his throat and tried to get the thoughts to leave his mind. "Er...this might sound a bit invasive, an' I be sorry for that." The Mole quirked a brow, but he nodded. "...When you an' Mime started seein' each other...did he want...sex?"

The Mole's face flushed. Russell had to smile a bit at how easily flustered the Mole got. The Mole shook his head. "Russell, what...t-that's none of your business." The Mole's voice had raised a pitch, but the look on his face was resolute, despite the red tones. Russell sighed.

"I know I have no business askin', but it concerns Truffles." He muttered and looked at his hand and his hook on the table. The color left the Mole's face and he frowned.

"...I think I might understand. Well...if you _must _know..." The Mole shifted awkwardly in his heat and his cheeks pinked. It matched his hair. "No. He didn't. It's only been the last year that things have...changed. He's not a little kid anymore." The Mole looked up at Russell. The Mole had left his glasses off. Russell liked the blue of the Mole's eyes. "What happened, Russell?"

Russell tightened his lips. "Last night...I woke up. Truffles was..._on top_ o' me. He kissed me an'...I think he wanted..." Russell frowned. Russell wondered why Truffles did that to _him _of all the people on the ship, when Truffles seemed terrified of his mere presence. The Mole's eyebrows rose.

"...I see. Well. I understand why you were asking about my relationship with Mime, then." The Mole sighed a little and propped his head on the table with an arm and tangled a hand through his bed-messy hair. "You know what I found on him when I gave him a check-up, right? Did Handy tell you?" Russell nodded. The Mole pursed his lips. "Right. Mime also told me he had various bruises all over his body...not to mention blood in places there _shouldn't _be. Sperm, blood, bruises..." The Mole covered his face. "I feel horrible. I know I s_houldn't_, it's my job to find any problems like this, but...you know I was a detective once, right?" Russell nodded again. The Mole was sort of an isolated and distant man; he rarely showed much emotion. The magenta-haired man looked _distraught._ "It doesn't take much thought to figure it out. I feel horrible...we can't just take Truffles from the island, but...I don't _want_ to take him back. If it was Mime, I would..." A dark look flashed in the Mole's unseeing eyes.

Russell let silence fall between them. The Mole was chewing on his bottom lip, with many different looks on his face all at once. Russell considered the Mole one of his good friends, even though the man held almost everyone at arm's length. "...I know what ye mean. I'm not as smart as ye, but..." The Mole smiled, but it was weak and false. "I _can't_ take 'im back the island. I-I don't blame the lad for what he did to me...if it's what I think it be."

The Mole sighed. "That's good. In my opinion...it seems as though Truffles has a bad history. All the signs point to that he was..." The Mole grimaced, as though he had just been hit. "...Sexually assaulted. Sexually abused. If it was once, then he would most likely be...quiet about it, and he wouldn't show many signs of it, besides the evidence we found." The blind man paused. "However. He seems to have a lot of trust issues, and the way he woke up...he was in a sheer panic about waking up to strangers. He wouldn't let anyone _touch_ him." The Mole sighed, and he looked towards Russell. It looked like the Mole was looking at Russell, when Russell knew he wasn't. The feeling was strange. "He refuses to talk about it. And the way he reacts around you in particular...he doesn't have any good experiences with pirates, it seems."

Russell nodded in agreement. "I was thinkin' that. He be fine around you, Mime, Handy...I'm not sure about Lumpy." He shrugged dismissively. "But...why would the lad seek me out and...try do_ that_?" Russell flushed a little, the events of the boy in his bed re-emerging. Russell shook the thoughts away.

The Mole covered his mouth with a hand, leaning forward on the table, contemplating. "I'm not sure. He fears you, but...he tried to..._seduce_ you? I'm assuming that's what happened, more or less."

"Yar." Russell said simply. The Mole smirked at the phrase but he continued.

"I think this sexual abuse has been happening for a long time, then. If he fears you but can approach you that way, then he's...used to it." The Mole sighed and waved a hand in a dismissive manner. "Of course...this is all speculation. Lumpy's the one to ask about all that psychological stuff. We won't know for sure until Truffles himself tells us." The Mole sat back in the seat, and crossed his arms. "If he doesn't tell us...we won't have a choice. We'll have to call the authorities and let them know we have him."

Russell nodded sullenly. The Mole could be so _technical_, but he spoke the truth. "Do ye think..." He started after a moment. The Mole looked up in his direction. "Do ye think ye could get Mime to talk to the lad?"

The Mole dropped his gaze and tapped his fingers on his forearm. "...I could ask. He might think we're taking advantage of him, though. He seems pretty attached to him."

"I know. I apologize." The pirate said quietly, feeling meek for asking.

The Mole shook his head and gave the other man a small, honest smile. "I understand. It's alright. I'll talk to him. I can't guarantee any success, that's all." The Mole said with a shrug. "I hope...talking to me helped?"

Russell nodded. "I think I understand the lad better now. I hope he's not upset at me." Russell frowned thinking of it, that he still had to talk to the boy.

Truffles' sleep was troubled. Sleeping with the thoughts of his nightmares was difficult enough, but he had been stupid enough to try and force himself on Russell. Russell did _not_ seem impressed, and the young sailor felt a lot more fearful about the pirate than before. Truffles sat up from his bed with a sigh; it was still early in the morning. He threw the covers off of himself and stood up. Mime had brought him another set of clothing. Truffles felt guilty about making the other boy work for him so much, but he was also grateful.

Truffles slipped on the clothing and headed out the door; he noted that Mime seemed to be giving him nautical-themed clothing and wondered if the other boy was doing it on purpose. Truffles frowned, but he decided that since Mime was taking such good care of him and he really had no right to be on the ship, he shouldn't complain.

Truffles wandered out into the halls of the ship, and remembered the other day when he had managed to find Mime and the Mole's room and he flushed a little. Truffles liked Mime; he was surprised the other boy was so..._active_. Mime had a carefree nature about him, and Truffles felt a little jealous about it. Truffles jogged out of the halls, unwilling to end up in a compromising situation again.

The sailor went up onto the deck and sat himself by the deck railings. Truffles stared out at the massive body of water, and he sighed and closed his eyes. He felt that whenever he was by the ocean, all his troubles melted away and everything was right in the world. He sat there for a long while, simply staring out at the body of water and at the changing colors of morning.

Truffles felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to look cautiously, and saw that it was Mime. Truffles relaxed and grinned at the other boy. "Hello, Mime." Mime grinned at him softly, and sat next to him at the table they happened to be at.

"Morning, Truffles." Mime said in almost a whisper. Truffles nodded. Mime sat in the chair awkwardly, and he looked at Truffles as if to gauge him for something. After a moment, he leaned forward. "Uhm, Truffles...I-I need to talk to you. About why you're on the ship."

Truffles flinched, and he frowned at the table's surface. Mime stiffened and waved his hands dismissively. "I-I'm sorry. I don't mean to be pushy or get into your business, but Mole was talking to me earlier...we just really need to know. If we could help you in some way."

Truffles nodded, sighing, tensing. Truffles liked Mime; he felt like he was the only one on the ship that he could _really_ trust. Truffles liked Mime, and he wondered how much respect the other boy would lose for him if he _knew_. Truffles bit his lip, but nodded. "I...I know. Uh...c-can I talk to you...later?"

Mime grinned that brilliant smile he had. "Of course. I have to make breakfast for the ship, so..." Mime stood and looked as though he was going to leave when Truffles also stood.

"Uh, well...I'd like it if you didn't...judge me. W-when I tell you." Mime looked at Truffles with a quizzical frown, but he nodded and slowly walked away. Truffles sighed again, trying to make sense of himself and what to tell the artist.

Truffles stood from the table, stretched out, and then headed off in search of his bag. If Mime was going to find out everything about him and ask questions, Truffles had questions of his own to ask. Truffles went back to the medical room he woke up in, hoping his bag would be in there. Truffles looked under every surface and checked every nook and cranny; _nothing._ Mime hadn't mentioned anything about its whereabouts...he frowned and sat down on the bed, trying to figure out where it could be. He didn't want someone knowing everything about him _just yet__**.**_ Truffles slouched; his bag could be in the crate they found him in, or someone had found it and taken it.

Truffles hoped it wasn't the latter. The young sailor dashed off to the crate he woke up in (which was a disgusting mess, considering he was a disgusting mess when he slept in there for three days) and again, found nothing. Truffles huffed angrily; the last thing he needed was an idiot like _Lumpy_ to find it and do whatever Lumpy did with shit that wasn't his. A thought then came to Truffles, "..._maybe they confiscated it? Or...kept it for me?_" Truffles hoped they weren't holding it from him. His frustration climbed, and he stalked off to the bridge of the ship.

Just as Truffles walked into the Bridge entrance, he ran face first into _another _person. Truffles stumbled back, cursing his height, and looked up and saw that it was Russell.

Both Russell and Truffles flushed shades of red and looked away from the other. They stood there for a moment, before the sailor cleared his throat, and attempted to side step around the bigger male into the room. Russell stepped out of his way. "Eh...I be sorry, lad. I didn't mean to run into ya. Well..." Truffles glanced at the man while he walked into the room and saw that he was scratching his face lightly with his hooked hand. Truffles spotted his bag and made a dive for it. "...I did actually want to talk to ya about...last night." Truffles tensed; he figured that the pirate would bring that up. Truffles looked though his bag-everything was just as he had left it, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned to look at Russell. "I...I know. I know I haven't treated you like I should have...this is your ship. I'm...I'm sorry." He said quietly, looking at the floor in front of him. He raised his gaze to Russell's. "I really appreciate your hospitality...but I...I need more time. I-I'm going to talk to Mime about why I'm here tonight...if you could wait until then, that would be...great."

They stood in silence again. Russell's face was in neutral, and Truffles was afraid he wouldn't accept his proposal. Then the man broke out into a big grin and he looked as though he could hug the boy. "Ah-I-Well..." Russell started; he had outstretched his arms, then dropped them, still grinning. "Thank ye, Truffles. I...I thought ye hated me. I'm real glad ye opened up to me a little." Russell's expression died down, but did not fade. "I'll wait. Thank ye, Truffles. I'll see ye later." The tall man had turned to leave.

"W-wait!" Truffles called out. Russell turned around, with his eyebrows raised. Truffles rather liked how his every expression showed up on his face. "I...I'm really sorry about last night."

Russell smiled again, nodded, and left without another word.

Truffles sighed, feeling all sorts of tension leave him. He was happy he had his bag, and he felt a lot better about his place on the ship; he was happy Russell didn't _hate_ him, because he didn't dislike him at all now.

Truffles was worried about everything else, however.

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><p><em>End Chapter.<em>

Yay, another chapter finished! Excuses time! I'm really sorry it took so long to finish this. I've had a couple of people in my family pass away, and the school had started again for me too. So, what with a bunch of family business and school projects/homework, I could barely even _read_ fanfiction, let alone write it...

I've also gained new interests, so Happy Tree Friends has kind of taken a back seat to them. I _do _love this story though, and I hope I can finish it. I also hope you will continue to read more. (: Without you guys, this story would remain in my head.

So, thank you for reading, and for your patience!


	5. Peg Legs

If you're still around reading this crap, I love you probably more than I should, since I'm a terrible author. But hey! Mondo Media decided to put Truffles in an episode. Cue new headcannons. Also I think it's worth mentioning this fic is like a year and something old and I'm still working on it. That's pretty rare for me.

I don't have any good excuses here, so please have this new chapter and refrain from killing me! Thank you those of you who reviewed, **OliviaHills**,** Jennifer the Dark **and** BRWNvsPNK**.

Warnings: homosexual content, shota/underage characters, mentions of abuse, self-abuse, mentions of rape, angst, blood content.

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><p>Russell hadn't told the Mole about it, but he had seen what he considered to be confirmation about the Mole's suspicions about the young boy. When Russell threw Truffles off of him and the sailor had just sat on the floor, he got a good look of the skin he usually had covered up; there were dark bruises and scars marring his skin, as well as unmistakeable skin bites that someone his age shouldn't have experienced yet.<p>

The pirate was _dying_ to understand Truffles better. Russell couldn't explain why, but now that he knew Truffles, he didn't want to take him back to the island...he wanted to bring him back to their town and make him happy. Their town was cursed, anyone who spent too long there was trapped in their ageless skin and the curse would follow them anywhere. Nobody had really tried to permanently leave town and nobody had really know what would happen to those who did...until Pop's wife had dared to leave. Her marriage with Pop had been on the rocks and her sanity was questionable, lessening with each time she or Cub died. So she packed up and left, though Pop had refused to let her take Cub with her. And for a time, she was fine; she was immortal, just as they were in town, but the amount she died had lessened. Unfortunately...age and time were things suspended in their cursed town. After a seemingly blissful period of time outside of their hell, her body started to rapidly break down and age; her immune system couldn't handle being outside of town and she passed away for good.

It seemed that the price people paid for being immortal and regenerative was high. If one considered how much they died and how broken their bodies s_hould_ be, it made sense. Everyone was at least twice or three times the age they looked, they just aged slower. Russell thought over the last few days Pop's wife had spent in town-they were _chaotic_. She lashed out at everyone close to her and blamed everyone, and was uncharacteristically violent. Russell couldn't really remember her name, but he remembered that she was nurturing and sweet, and a lot of the people in town went to her for comfort and advice. She and Pop had really been in love, and it was hard to believe that she started to attack Pop the way she did and hurt everyone around her. That was the last thing Russell wanted for Truffles...but everyone else in town was fairly happy with their lives.

A thought occurred to him. If Truffles _wanted _to live in town, knowing the consequences...and if he _died_ in town, then he _couldn't_ leave.

But what if he did want to live in town and _did_ die, but he was forced to go back to that island? Truffles wouldn't last.

Russell was leaning up against the railing of the ship, and he sighed, feeling burdened with all of his thoughts, and he buried his face in his arms. Truffles was young and he should _act_ young, instead of looking constantly troubled and unhappy.

But who was Russell to judge what Truffles should or shouldn't have?

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><p>Handy was back. Truffles had screamed when he walked into the dining room for breakfast and Handy was there, already with a plate, attempting to eat. Mime had to calm him down and convince him to sit down and try having some food, which Truffles did, but he hardly ate anything; instead he poked at what was on his plate and eyed Handy warily.<p>

Ever since Truffles had panicked and practically refused to eat, Lumpy had been staring at him with must have been all the attention he was capable of. It didn't go unnoticed by the young sailor. Towards the end of breakfast, which had been awkward and uncomfortable, the sailor threw down his fork and glared at Lumpy. "Stop _staring_ at me! What is it?"

Lumpy wasn't bothered by the boy's outburst in the slightest. Rather acting the way normal people would have reacted and being at least mildly embarrassed or guilty, he smiled at the boy instead. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking...you look like someone I know."

This seemed to strike a chord with everyone (except the Mole) as they all turned and examined they young boy. Truffles himself looked a little alarmed, and he flushed under the scrutiny of everyone's gazes. Truffles looked...guilty. He shot back at Lumpy with a rather bratty response. "Oh, yeah? Well, who?"

Lumpy shrugged, again unbothered with Truffles and his attitude. "Oh...it's silly. She's a girl, and you're a boy, so you can't _possibly_ look alike. That just doesn't make any sense." Lumpy chuckled to himself, and most people at the table just sighed or shook their head at the large man's incompetence, though he had spoken the immediate truth before.

"Who does he mean? Who does he look like?" The Mole had asked Mime in a whisper, leaning down to the artist's earshot. Mime studied the sailor, comparing him to the girls in town, and things almost made sense; but Mime couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"...I...I dunno. If I figure it out, I'll let you know. Lumpy just might be being himself again."

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><p>After breakfast, Russell asked Truffles to help Mime clean up. Truffles liked the idea; he was supposed to become a sailor back on the island, and had been brought up like one, and so he was used to ship maitenence. The young boy found it actually helped to clear his mind.<p>

Mime and Truffles were in the kitchen after breakfast, cleaning up after the meal. Truffles had his arms deep in the sink, scrubbing dishes when he yawned rather loudly.

Mime smiled at him. "What's the matter? You hardly touched the meal I worked all morning on." The other boy was just being playful when he said this, but Truffles hung his head sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. I had a rough night. I...I wasn't expecting to see Handy again, honestly." Truffles had added on the bit about Handy's appearance to hopefully keep Mime from asking why he had a rough night.

Mime came closer, while he swept the kitchen area. "Really? You didn't believe me when I explained everything to you?"

Truffles shook his head. "Not really, no. I've never seen anyone _die _and come back the next day like he did." A small silence fell when Truffles asked more quietly, "...have _you_ died?" He wondered if his disbelief in Mime hurt his feelings.

Mime sighed, ceasing his actions with the broom, looking a little far off. "...Yes. Yeah, I've died. I've died a lot. I'm actually older than I look. I look about... sixteen, yeah?" Mime looked to the other boy for validation, and Truffles nodded. "I'm not sure about the actual number anymore, but I should probably be in my late twenties."

Truffles' jaw dropped. "_Late _twenties_?_"

Mime giggled a little bit, and resumed his sweeping. "Around there, I think. Not sure. The Mole should be in his late forties." Mime seemed too used to the idea for Truffles to be comfortable.

"...Why? Why is it like that? What does dying feel like? _How_ have you died?" Truffles resumed his scrubbing on the dishes, although his attention was all on the lithe artist. An unhappy look passed the other boy's face, and his grip tightened on the broom he was holding.

Mime started to sweep again. "That's a hard question. I really don't know why things are the way they are. But we don't age normally...we're almost immortal, I guess." The purple haired boy rolled his eyes at how ridiculous that sounded. _Immortal_. "Our town is, well, essentially cursed. I don't know why. But once someone new comes in and they die, they fall under the curse. And they can't leave."

Truffles felt a chill creep up his spine. '_Someone new_' would be him, if he decided to go through with his plan. "...What happens if they try to leave?"

Mime pursed his lips, trying to think of the answer. "This all happened before I ever came to town, but from what I hear...there was this lady married to one of the men in town. She started to go insane because of how much she and her baby died...but she had been in town for a _long_ time. She left town for good, and I heard old age and sickness took her after she left town." Mime bent to sweep up whatever dirt and food piles he had into a pan and took it to the garbage. "I don't know for sure. The Mole was in town longer than me, so...I guess I should ask him again."

A small silence passed over the two, with Mime starting up another dust pile with the broom, and Truffles rinsing plates over, deep in thought.

"...Does dying hurt? How have you...?" Truffles was aware that he was repeating a question, but he felt these were things he had to know, if he was going to try and escape the island for good.

"It depends. There's more than one way to die, you know. We're very fragile...everyday chores and mundane things can kill us." Mime touched his face, feeling along his jaw and the attractive features he had. "I should...be really...ugly. Most of the times I've died, my head..." Mime smiled bitterly. "My head is crushed and torn apart all the time. Most of the time it's quick and I don't feel anything, but...yes. It hurts. It hurts a lot." Truffles re-examined Mime's appearance, and at the good looks he was blessed with; he tried to imagine him any other way and found he couldn't. "I shouldn't look the way I do."

The sailor bit his lip, feeling guilty for asking questions that made the artist look so melancholy. Truffles finished washing the last pot, washing off the suds with water and putting it in the rack to dry.

"...Hey..." Mime looked at him, looking as though he was bracing himself for another difficult question. "...I think I could tell you why I'm...here." Truffles shifted, ringing the dishcloth in his hands so drops of water soaked his shirt and drops ran down his ankles.

Mime smiled at him, looking rather gentle than happy. "I'm glad. Come with me, then."

Truffles was aware that it wasn't even noon yet, but he felt that since Mime had shared painful feelings with him, he could do the same. Truffles didn't trust easily...he didn't trust a_nyone._ Mime was different. Mime was kind, cheerful, but he had those awful expressions and feelings inside of him somewhere.

The purple haired boy led them to the halls, until they got to a fork that would either take them to Truffles' room, or Mime's. Mime gestured to either side of the halls and shrugged, as if to ask which way to go. In all honesty, Truffles wanted to sit on the deck and talk by the sea. The smell of the salt and the breeze just seemed to melt everything and make it alright. However, Truffles knew that anyone would be able to hear him; anyone would be able to see into his most vulnerable places. "My room, please." Not to mention it would be one-sided, since the artist obviously refrained from talking aloud.

"Do you want tea?" Truffles had drunk more tea on the boat than he ever had in his life, thanks to Mime. The boy grinned back and nodded, beginning to become accustomed to the artist's eccentricity. Mime slipped away, back towards the kitchen. Truffles went inside his guest room, practically dropping himself onto the cushions of the bed.

Mime came in a few minutes later, laughing quietly at the sight of Truffles wrapped up in a seemingly endless amount of pillows and blankets, looking like a burrito. Mime set the mugs down on the nightstand, and he launched himself on the bed next to Truffles, making the other boy shriek out of surprise. To his own amazement Truffles laughed, bouncing up and down on the bed. Mime laughed too, smiling widely at the boy he had barely seen a smile from, let alone laughter. They laid there for a few moments, breathing in the smell of clean, fluffy sheets.

"My father is a lieutenant in the Navy base on the island." Truffles started suddenly, feeling a s though he could sleep with how comfortable he felt. "I was trained to become a sailor. I guess I am...I mean, I have the uniform and all the knowledge." Truffles buried his face into a pillow. "But this is the first time I've ever sailed. It's...it's beautiful. I wish I could have done it sooner."

Mime was looking at Truffles, seemingly studying his face. Truffles was surprised at how okay he was with this. "Why didn't you?" The other boy's voice was soft, slow. The question wasn't urgent, it was simply there.

"I wasn't old enough to be part of the real Navy, they said...my father promised me that he would take me on my first voyage when I became a sailor. I love the sea...so I just kept training. I learned everything I could...and I worked under different sailors, trying to understand everything I could...I wanted to make my dad proud." His grip tightened on the pillow he had his face in. "But...I don't know. I never really realised when it started happening, or how. But...the sailors were..." A lump gathered in his throat, and he tried to swallow it. "I guess they were interested in me. Not...not in the right way. I was only..." Truffles' voice cracked. Mime frowned, but in the concerned way. "I think I was only eight or nine. While I was working under one of the sailors, he...he cornered me when nobody was around and...He touched me. I didn't understand what was happening at the time..."

"I wish it was the only time. If that was the only time, then it wouldn't have mattered. I would have kept pushing to become a sailor. I never understood what it was he wanted from me or what he did, so I didn't say anything about it. I never told anyone. And then...that sailor...he came back. He came back with _friends_. Other sailors." Truffles fell silent, closing his eyes and breathing out a long sigh. "My mother found me afterwards. I think you can guess what they did to me. I was pretty sick for a while, and my mother and father started fighting a lot then. My mother wanted to leave the island and she kept trying to convince my father to leave...he wouldn't."

Truffle's eyes flicked to the nightstand, where he had his bag. "My mother...she wanted to take me away. She tried to pack me up and make me leave. And I..." He laughed quietly, with his voice sounding a little broken. "I'm an idiot. I idolized my dad, and I still wanted to become a sailor and I wouldn't her take me. I guess she was having an affair, too...so my Dad let her leave. I haven't seen her again."

"What was your mother's name?" Mime asked quietly, looking at Truffles with a sympathy and understanding.

"Bluebell. She had beautiful long, blue hair...with different colors of blue in it." Mime frowned, and suddenly everything clicked. The artist tried to hide his surprise, and kept it to himself. "My Dad has greyish lavender hair...but anyways. My mother left and I haven't seen her in years. Everything kept happening...my father knew about what the sailors did to me. He didn't do anything." Truffles frowned, looking furious and heartbroken at the same time. "It just kept...happening. I would try hide from them, but they would find me again. They did so many things...and it wasn't just them, either. The scientists who worked for the Navy knew about me somehow...and they made me part of their experiments. Whenever they engineered a new..._thing_, they would make me try it out."

"Try it out?" The artist asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Try what out?"

"Monsters. They made...these..._things_ out of animals. Octopus, squid, jellyfish, sharks, everything. Things like sharks were too dangerous, but they would have me interact with the squid and octopus to see how docile it was and how much control they had over it. I've nearly drowned too many times to count." A smile suddenly came across Truffles' face and he laughed a little. "Maybe that's how I'd mainly die if I went to your town, Mime." Mime couldn't laugh. "What the _things_ did to me wasn't nearly as bad as what the sailors did...but still. They almost tore me apart once. It's just..." Truffles sighed, rolling over onto his back, taking a pillow with him and he squeezed it in his arms. "I feel sick. I feel so, so sick with myself. I'm not innocent. They made me do..._things_, the sailors..." Truffles pulled up the hem of his shirt, revealing bruises and scars he had. Mime stared at the markings, and then Truffles pulled at the collar of his shirt, showing red marks and bites he had littering the skin there. Mime closed his eyes after a few moments of staring.

"The last...assault happened the day before everyone here came for the fruit shipment. I knew you were coming...and I think the sailors did too. I'm not sure. But...they took me again. They beat me a little. I managed to run away, and I hid in one of the crates where you found me."

"How did you know we were coming?" Mime felt he already knew the answer, but he had to ask. Truffles looked at him hard, before he soundlessly got up off the bed and went to his bag. He pulled out a picture frame from the bag that had the picture inside flipped around so it was blank, along with an envelope. The sailor opened the frame and pulled the picture out, and handed it to Mime.

Mime studied the picture for a few moments, before he nodded. "...I think I...understand."

Truffles couldn't help but smile a little, relieved. "You do?"

Mime nodded again. "Your mom...Bluebell, right? She looks just like..."

"Petunia." Truffles finished for Mime. Truffles motioned for Mime to flip the picture over, and there was writing on the back of it. The handwriting on the back said, _to my Petunia_. The picture was older, with Truffles looking about nine, sitting with his mother in the picture. Bluebell did indeed look very much like Petunia, except her hair was longer and curlier, kind of the way Truffles' hair curled. She looked older, but she still had a youthful, sweet look about her.

Truffles fidgeted a little. "My mother and my aunt Petunia...fought a lot. I remember they used to fight on the phone, and I only remember her ever visiting once when I was really little. I think my mother felt a little guilty...she had cut Petunia off for a few years. So my mother was going to send her this picture and she had a letter, too...but before she could...that's when everything started to happen with me. I guess she forgot with everything going on."

"So you're...Petunia's nephew?" Mime looked at Truffles in a new light, and everything seemed to make sense. The boy wasn't the spitting image of Petunia, but there was a resemblance between the two. Mime wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Truffles nodded.

"I know it's selfish of me, but I don't really have a way of communicating with my aunt, so when I heard some sailors talking over the ship that was coming from Happy Tree town, where she lived...I knew it was time I left."

Mime was still sitting on the bed, looking the picture over and over, as though it would give him all the answers. Everything was heavy, thick with the sadness that rolled off of Truffles, thick with his pain and loneliness. "Why didn't your father ever do anything to help you?"

Truffles smiled, looking as though he wanted to cry, with water welling up in the corners of his violet eyes. "I guess he just didn't love me that much." The sailor turned around and hugged himself, sniffling a little, hunching over in a way that told Mime he was crying. The artist stood and hugged Truffles, pulling him into a deep hug. Truffles covered his face. "Don't. I'm...dirty. I'm sick. I'm selfish. I've...put you all in a bad situation. I shouldn't...b-be here." Mime hugged him tighter. "I don't deserve...you."

Mime knew that anything he had to say was useless. Nothing was okay. Nothing was alright. Truffles really had nothing left to lose, and Mime couldn't even begin to understand what the other boy had gone through. "Turn around." Mime commanded gently, loosening his grip on Truffles. The sailor did so slowly, hiding his face in his hands, crying quietly. "You're done, okay? You're done hurting. You deserve _everything _good. You're strong, you're smart, and...You're amazing. You didn't deserve anything like that. It wasn't your fault. You're not dirty." Mime spoke in hushed tones, trying to soothe the boy in his arms.

Now that Mime knew everything, he came to the same conclusion Russell had had; Truffles wasn't going back to that island. Mime wouldn't let them take him.

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><p>Afterwards, Mime had to go back to the kitchen and start preparing lunch. Truffles stayed in his room, reflecting back on things, collecting himself. Truffles was scared; he had never told anyone what he had told Mime.<p>

Well...that wasn't exactly true. Truffles rolled over onto his side, lying back on the bed. Mime reminded him very much of his only friend back on the island; she was the only thing Truffles _had _to lose, and he hoped that she would forgive him for leaving. Truffles smiled. Knowing her, she would find him again, beat him up a little, and then maybe, just maybe, for once in his life, Truffles could be happy.

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><p>After lunch, Mime told the Mole what Truffles had told him. Truffles knew he did, of course, and he knew that whatever skeletons he had hiding would have to be brought out to some people if he wanted to stay with them. Mime told Truffles that he wouldn't tell the Mole <em>everything<em>, since Truffles had trusted Mime enough to confide in him; he just told him Truffles' reasons for leaving the island, how he knew the ship was coming, and about Petunia. It sounded like a lot, but Mime was smart enough to leave out what would hurt his friend the most.

The Mole said that he would see if Russell would have a meeting, so that the rest of the crew could talk it over and decide what to do from there.

Lunch was uneventful. Truffles was tired from talking to Mime, and he was hungry from losing his appetite at breakfast. Mime was distracted, thinking over everything Truffles had told him. Nobody had died; everyone in the room just made small talk and ate. Truffles was relieved; as much as he liked his new companions, they were very exciting, _too_ exciting, and it was starting to wear him out.

After everyone ate, the Mole spoke up. "I believe that we as a crew should have a talk. Earlier today Truffles decided to speak to Mime about why he is here on the ship, and he's willing to cooperate with us now. I think we should have a meeting and talk about what to do with our stowaway." Mime looked at the Mole disapprovingly, but Truffles knew that the Mole was right, whether he spoke coldly or not. Sugar coating the situation wouldn't help him in the long run. Handy nodded in agreement, Lumpy didn't acknowledge that he had even heard the blind man speak, and Russell looked contemplative, but he nodded as well. "How does this evening sound?"

"Aye. That works for me. There be two days of sailin' left, not including today. Damn sailors might'a noticed the lad be missin' by now." Russell added, looking rather stern. The more Truffles thought about it, the more he realised Russell had been on his side. The sailor felt ashamed, reflecting on his behavior towards the sea farer; although he also felt a new sense of gratitude and safety around him. The boy bit his lip; that wasn't like him a_t all_. Truffles _hated_ pirates.

And yet, he could not muster any more negative feelings towards the older man.

"Alright, after dinner then?" The Mole suggested. Truffles glanced over at Mime, and he noticed that the lithe performer was scowling at his boyfriend.

All of the crew nodded in agreement, besides Lumpy. Handy started to stand up, moving out of his chair awkwardly. "Right then. Tonight. Thanks for lunch, Mime." The younger male addressed nodded and smiled at Handy, but Truffles could tell Mime wasn't focused on Handy at all.

"Handy, I need to talk to you." The amputee had been halfway out the door when the Mole called out to him; Handy clearly wasn't expecting any attention, but he shrugged.

"Sure. I'll wait on the docks."

The Mole nodded in acknowledgement. Lumpy left without even trying to pick up after himself. Mime turned to the Mole after the former two had left, leaning up into him and Truffles could hear the artist furiously whisper something to him. Russell stood up and tried to gather his plate and a cup he had, utensils and cup stacked on the plate. The hook he had for a hand jerked loose for a moment, so that the plate fell and the glass cup shattered. To the young sailor's horror, he watched as a large shard of the cup ricocheted off the floor and sunk into Russell's leg with ease. The man gasped and clutched at his knee; Truffles was off of his chair and at the man's side at once.

"A-are you okay?" Truffles recalled the sensation of warm blood splattering over his face when Handy had died, and he was thankful that the pirate hadn't died; he also recalled what Mime had said about mundane things easily ending their lives. The event had left him shaky, and he stared dubiously over the pirate's physical condition.

The pirate looked at his wound dubiously, eye wide and looking a little frantic. "I-I think so. There be some glass in me leg..." The man winced and his knee buckled, and Truffles could see blood seeping out of the wound.

"Oh! Lean on me." The sailor turned, looking at Mime and the Mole; the Mole had paid attention to the sound, and was listening to them, and Mime was looking the scene over in disbelief. "Um, Mole...?" The man perked up at the sound of his name. "Russell has some glass in his leg. What should I do...?"

The Mole stood up. "Help him into the medical ward. I'll need you to help me take it out." Mime looked at the Mole open-mouthed. "Mime, can you clean up the glass?" It sounded more like a command than a question, and the teenage boy stood, red in the face, obviously upset with the other man and he stalked off. The Mole sighed. "Come, Truffles."

The sailor watched his friend storm off, and he felt a little uneasy about going with the Mole; the elegant man didn't seem to like him very much. Still, Truffles thought about the blood that had gushed out of Handy and his eyes fell to Russell's crimson leg, and he started walking after the Mole towards the medical room.

"Thank ye, Truffles." Russell murmured to the younger boy, looking down at him with a strained smile. Truffles tried to return it, nodding in acknowledgement, but he could sense that the pirate was in a lot of pain. They arrived in the medical room, the same room Truffles had woken up in when the crew had discovered him on the ship.

"Help him sit up on the bed." The Mole ordered, somehow finding a white coat and he slipped it over his shoulders. Russell was having a bit of a time walking, so he had to shift his weight so he could ease Russell onto the white sheets of the bed.

"Done." Truffles felt a little out of breath from practically dragging the larger man into the room.

The Mole nodded. "Good. Now, lift up his pant leg a few inches above the wound and...Russell, is it close to your peg leg?"

"Aye, mate." The pirate looked a little pale. Truffles wondered if it was a side effect of being fragile, like Mime said.

"Okay, we're going to have to take it off, then. Truffles." Truffles nodded, though he felt a little flustered from getting so close to the pirate and having to touch him like this. The Mole handed him some latex gloves, and after he put them on he gingerly lifted the bloodied material of Russell's pants away from the wound. Truffles rolled the pants up almost to his knee; the sailor's eyes widened at the sight of Russell's bare skin. "Elevate his leg after it's off. We need to slow the blood flow."

There were scars an inch or two above his peg leg. The scar tissue was unhealed and rough, filled with uneven tissue that had obviously been infected a few times. Russell watched Truffles with an uneasy expression, looking as though he was afraid of what Truffles might say. "I'm sorry." Truffles mumbled to him. "How do I take off your leg?"

"Oh, ye just twist it and pull it like..." Russell had to walk Truffles through how to pull his leg off, and the young boy wondered how the man managed to use them on his own. With the leg removed, more of Russell's scared skin was exposed. Truffles swallowed a lump in his throat, lifting the pirate's leg onto the bed and wondering how the man had such extensive wounds.

"There. His leg is off." The Mole nodded in approval. "Good. I know this isn't any fun, but I'll need you to take the glass out of his leg." The blind man produced some tweezers out of nowhere, handing them to Truffles. "Russell. Does it feel close to the bone? How bad is it bleeding?"

Russell looked his leg over, appearing rather shaky. "It be deep, Mole. The bleedin' be slowing down though." The Mole nodded.

"It's alright, Truffles. Just use the tweezers and ease it out as carefully as you can. After you have all of the glass and shards out, you need to put pressure on the wound to slow and clot the bleeding." Truffles nodded and steeled himself, remembering to put Russell's health before his insecurities. The sailor plucked at the glass protruding out of Russell's leg, flinching when Russell gasped out of pain. Still, Truffles pulled on the glass, glancing back and forth from his task and the pirate's face. After one last tug the glass popped out, along with some blood spurting out of the now-open wound. Russell groaned. The wound was rather clean, except for a few shards that Truffles cleaned up quickly.

"I-I'm sorry. Here." The Mole gave Truffles a cloth and he pressed it to the wound, trying to use his best gentle, yet firm grasp. Mime came in then, surveying the scene still looking peeved.

"I need a wet cloth for Russell, Mime. Some bandages too." Mime puffed up again, but he did as his partner said. Soon with Mime's help, they had the blood cleaned off of Russell's leg, sterilized the area, and had it wrapped up in gauze.

Russell sat back on the bed, sighing. He patted his leg with a grin. "Thank ye, lads. I thought I'd be needin' a longer peg leg if I'd bled out more." The pirate grinned at his own humor, making Truffles chuckle a little and Mime smiled. Truffles helped Russell get his leg back on, while Mime cleaned up the bloodied materials. After Truffles had helped Russell get his leg back on, Russell leaned close to him. "Thank _ye _especially, Truffles. I know ye don' like me very much." The pirate had said this in a whisper.

"That's not true. I like you." Truffles shot back, already disappointed that Russell felt that way. He hadn't thought about it when he said it, and they both seemed to realise what he said after a moment. Truffles flushed red, feeling foolish at his own impulsiveness. "I-I mean..."

Russell laughed quietly, and he ruffled the younger male's hair affectionately. "I be glad ye feel that way, Truffles. I like ye too." With that, Russell stood up. "Thank ye, Mole, Mime." The pair nodded, and Russell limped out of the room. Truffles thought about helping him get back to his room, but Truffles felt...embarrassed. His attitude got the better of him too often.

Truffles sat there for a moment longer, before he glanced over at the couple behind him. Mime was glaring at the Mole, and the Mole looked annoyed. "Thanks for your help, Truffles. You did a good job. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Mime. Alone." The sailor nodded, and he could see this set something off in the artist again.

Truffles had his fill of excitement for a little while, so he picked himself off of the floor and scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He made a beeline for his room.

All it seemed he had to do now was wait for dinner to come and go.

And all he seemed to be able to think about was what he said to Russell.

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><p><em>End chapter.<em>

Hooray for a new chapter! And for all the grammatical errors I'm too awful to fix!

Sorry, guys. My life has kind of gone to hell. I've lost pretty much all motivation I had to write, and I've gotten into new fandoms so writing for HTF has been harder. I like this story though, so I'll try not to abandon it. Also, I've named the Russell and Truffles pairing _Ruffles._ I think it's cute!

I think it's worth mentioning I have a _tumblr_, and I'm on often. I have no problems with anyone swinging by and yelling at me for not writing, haha.

Thanks for reading! _Bises!_


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